“Just take it,” the elderly egg white stallion said, the name ‘Dapper Comet’ swung on the name badge around the lanyard chained to his neck said, smiling at Twilight. Tables on tables of books surrounded Twilight as a giant sign that said ‘Book Sale’ hung in the front atrium of the library. Night dripped through the city as the square interior of the library hung behind the sign. A poster advertising various services such as map scribing and a generic crafts shop hung at the entrance. Ponies moved through the sale, with a dragon brandishing glasses and a griffin among them as well. One light brown mother mare teasing her pure white colt over a book she was obviously going to buy him. The spruce carpet softly caught the white colt as he jumped around her, begging for the book titled Main Event’s Book of World Records.

“Are you sure? I can come back with some bits,” Twilight frowned, her eyes shifting to the left tilting her head as her right ear flickered for a moment. She adjusted herself, trying to find sure footing despite the carpet being level.

“My mother’s magic had declined as well. She started losing her magic at an early age and I completely understand what it’s like to live with that,” Dapper said, his nearly maneless scalp showing his horn prominently, beaming at Twilight. Wrinkles spread from his lips across his face while his horn held a grace only somepony in their silver years would possess, “But she always had her books to retreat into. I would give you all six books if we had them, but Stamp isn’t exactly popular these days like she was forty years ago.”

“The second book is one of the better ones,” Twilight said, taking the book by the mouth, turning and using her nose to lift a flap of her saddlebag, slipping the book in. “Never cared too much for the first book because it takes sooooo long for the author to shove Twinkle and her herd out the door and get started on their adventure. But the second book, the moment Twinkle finds her circlet is damaged,” Twilight stomped her hooves with glee. “She has to learn to make do with what she is given!”

“That’s not what I got from that,” the old stallion chuckled as he levitated two books behind them, taking a quick glance and placing them on different piles.

“Huh?” Twilight cocked her head at the librarian.

“The way I read that, it was Twinkle coming to terms with the fact that the world is winding down. Nothing is left undamaged, everything has a scar,” the stallion nodded. “Even her foals will come into the world, imperfect. A haunting prospect for any parent in that story.”

“Well, it does have that theme, but Sanctaria is a drop of the sun made manifest in the story!” Twilight smiled. “Just because it is damaged doesn’t mean it can’t still, with the other five circlets help, reveal the path to the Book of the End and let them rewrite the fate of the world!”

“Rewriting fate, blah,” the old unicorn gave Twilight a coy smile and flicked his tail. “That’s where Stamp lost me. If I was given the brush and the book, I would definitely change some things.”

“But you’re missing the point!” Twilight had a wide smile now, “There was only enough ink left to either rewrite the end of the world or let her rewrite her and her herd’s life! She could have given her herd riches and fame beyond even the Matrons of the Empire, but she saw that restoring the land was far more important, even if another herd would have to come along in 10,000 years to continue the story once the ink jar finally filled itself back up.”

“But why would any creator do that to their world? ‘Your world will eventually end unless every 10,000 years, a herd takes a harrowing journey to temporarily fix this flaw that was deliberately introduced’,” the librarian retorted and looked up, making a snort. “And that is ignoring how contrived the ‘There is only so much ink’ thing is.”

“It’s obvious that when Salamouch made the land, she wanted to give its inhabitants a way out if, during her slumber, evil won. If, for some reason, evil did win, then there would be a forced end to such suffering. It’s a test to ensure that the inhabitants were still capable of mercy, kindness, and love.”

“Sounds like to me Salamouch should have stayed awake,” the stallion snickered, turning to levitate two more books and placing them on two piles.

“Creation is an exhausting effort,” Twilight coyly huffed. “Also, for some, they can’t not create. There is an impulse to do it. A mood overtakes them and they have to create.”

“Well, a mare should know how creating something should be exhausting,” the elderly stallion eyed.

“Hey,” Twilight smirked. “Watching over a creation can be just as hard as the act of making it.”

The stallion pursed his lips, then shook his head, “I was never a fan of how Duke Swift was the comedic relief.”

“Well, what did you expect him to do? Put himself in danger?” Twilight wiggled her eyebrows and playfully smiled.

“He was stuck cooking and watching little Shining Star while his mares went out and did the real stuff,” the stallion grumbled. “And every time he did try to go beyond his station, his reward was either to be captured or tricked.” The old stallion looked at the ground, his ears folded and lips turned up.

“Well, think about it, he did do a good job of making sure his mares were taken care of,” Twilight nodded. “Without him, they would have had to deal with carrying Thornback and maybe Trumpet Lilly. Without him, they would have been so dragged down by estrus that it would have impeded their journey.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what I meant,” grumbled the Librarian. “He may have been a unicorn, but if Twinkle sat him down and taught him magic beyond the basics, many problems could have been avoided.”

“But then there would be no story!” Twilight laughed.

“Yes, yes,” nodded the stallion. “But as a father of twenty, the sheer fact that he couldn’t even cast an inverse Alarm spell so Shining Star wouldn’t wander too far without him knowing just bothers me. If he was an earth pony or pegasus, I would understand. But…”

“Well, you have to remember, Stamp wrote the story over half a century ago. And she was quite conservative, Tarturus, she still calls Dragons ‘Demon Lizards’ and never lets up from that,” Twilight said, turning to look at the dragon with glasses, who was reading a book called The Secret History of Clover the Clever. She turned back to Dapper and said, “And even then, there are still plenty of other literature where stallions are heroes!”

The librarian stood still for a second, turned to Twilight, moping. “Have you read any of those stories?” he asked, his right lip stretched across his snout.

“Well, only one, and I never got all the way through, to be honest,” Twilight wrinkled her nose.

“Why?”

“Well, I didn’t like how the book discussed taking care of his mares. He spoke of them more like pieces on a chessboard than mares that would throw their lives away to protect him and their foals,” Twilight grimaced, turning away from the librarian ever so slightly.

The old stallion nodded, “I’m guessing what you read was Preconception and Disdain?”

“Yes!” Twilight cried out, her ears flickering up. “That’s the one!”

“Do you mind me telling you how it ends?” the librarian asked, raising an eyebrow.

Twilight shook her head.

“If you read further along, he votes to expunge Glory Treasure.”

“Wait, no,” Twilight’s face popped with shock as she lifted her left leg up ever so slightly. “He and her were the closest!”

“Later on, Lilypad drops an ultimatum, either she leaves or Glory leaves. And Lilypad comes from money. If he didn’t, Glory, Starry, and the foals would have found themselves in deep poverty. The illusion that he could keep the herd in balance comes crashing down and he resigns himself to stay with Lily just long enough to make sure the last of the foals could get a good education, but when she caught him sneaking Equucleum into her meals and, well,” the stallion frowned.

“Branded,” Twilight frowned.

The stallion nodded, “The story ends with him breaking and almost killing their youngest. And he was hauled away to a convent. In the Epilogue, he runs into a forest where he meets Glory again in a bright green field.”

“Oh?” Twilight said as her eyes flashed with a shade of violet.

“It’s implied that he died in the forest and found his way to Elysium,” the old stallion said, his eyes watering up. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“I understand, there’s no shame in a stallion crying,” Twilight smiled.

“You have to understand,” Dapper said. “The reason it came off as him manipulating the mares like they were in a game is because he was looking out for his foals.”

“Why?” Twilight tilted her head, her mane bouncing slightly.

“Well, because it’s not uncommon that one mare will push her foals forward at the expense of a herd mate’s foals,” the stallion said. “They were all his children, but each mare had her own young to look after. Look, let me ask you this. If you were in a herd where you had two foals, and every other mare had two foals as well, and they all got sick, and you only had one dose of the cure to go around, would you not prefer that dose go to one of yours?”

Twilight shuffled and grimaced, “I mean, well.”

“So you see the dilemma?”

“Yeah but, if they were good parents, those foals would never get to such a state in the first place, right?” Twilight asked, she said, facing away from the librarian at an acute angle.

“Perhaps, but assume the worst has happened. What then? Maybe if they were all your children, you could instantly tell which one was the one that needed it the most. But if you are the mare with a foal that was almost as bad as the one who needed it the most, but not bad enough? You might do something underhanded to get that foal the medication. And what if you were also lead mare? You might just have the position and power to do it. That means that you might be the only pony there that can get the foal who needs it the most that medication,” the stallion said, snorting.

Silence was spun between the two of them as ponies were milling about around them. Each of the temporary shelves lined with books seemed as if they were facing Twilight. The clattering of hooves echoed across the chamber, underpinning the quiet between the two ponies. Then Twilight opened her mouth.

“I see,” Twilight glanced right. “And if you’re lead mare, or the other parents in general overrule you… so Glory leaving was a lot worse than I realized,” Twilight blinked.

“Right, as usual, the foals stay with the father, but without their mother to argue on their specific case, things can get messy very quickly,” the stallion said, closing his eyes and nodding to the violet mare in front of him.

“But at that point, he could just go to an arbiter and explain the situation?” Twilight asked, her lower lip fluttering for a split second.

“I don’t know about the arbiters where you come from, but where I grew up, they were flimsy and ineffectual,” the stallion said, snorting and folding his ears back. “And given Lilypad’s family wealth, she could have just thrown bits at the problem until it resolves in her favor.”

“I, I really doubt that an arbiter would take a bribe,” Twilight exhaled as she faced the librarian. “They took oaths.”

“Not to be rude, ma’am, but you are at risk of seeming deeply naïve,” the stallion said, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” Twilight answered, her brows facing each other for a split second, then shooting the librarian a cocked eye.

“Arbiters are not these advocates that ensure that only the best outcome for the herd happens, they’re ponies. Maybe they had 15 other families to see that day and they are exhausted. Maybe they knew one of the mares from primary school. Maybe they have a grudge against earth ponies and see them as ill-suited to be proper parents,” the old stallion countered as he lifted another two books with his magic and sorted them.

“Well,” Twilight shuffled. “They can always take it to court?”

“That’s arguably even worse,” the stallion yanked his head back and shot Twilight an exhausted look. “By the time they’ve examined all the evidence and interviewed everyone, asking every question, in our particular scenario, the disease has run its course.”

“Then…” Twilight looked from side to side in a brief panic.

“You do your best, but sometimes it is what it is,” the stallion curled his lip.

A small silence stuck around the two ponies once again as other ponies moved throughout the sale. The scent of allspice wafted as lantern light glowed pale blue around them.

“Well… sir, it was very good to meet you and I thank you for your help,” Twilight said.

“Anything for a voracious reader,” the stallion nodded as he turned and left.

Twilight turned, and took a few steps before the librarian once again voiced, “Ma’am?”. She stopped, and turned to the librarian as he walked towards her, a book held aloft by magic beside him.

“I do not want you to leave our library with an unpleasant taste in your mouth. I didn’t mean to attack you if that is what you derived from our talk. But from unicorn to unicorn, can I give some honest advice?”

Twilight grimaced, looked away, then turned and nodded to the stallion.

“Just because you’re well read and well studied in one thing does not translate to being well read and studied in other things. You’re obviously a curious mare, but I would encourage you to at least try to read outside magic texts and epic fantasy stories. Even if you don’t finish the book, it may, at the very least, widen your perspective,” he said, opening a pouch on Twilight’s saddlebag and slipping the book he had. “I promise you, you will be all the better for it…”

Twilight nodded and thanked Dapper, walking out of the small community library, the dark blue skies oozed in front of her, with both books in her saddlebag. The sound of a fountain spilled forth from her side as haunting pale light illuminated a sculpture of three mares in the middle of the water works, one of each kind, dancing around each other.

Twilight lowered her head as she let out an exhausted sigh, when her ears perked to her left.

“That one! That one!”

Twilight slowly turned to her left as she saw two figures, both standing tall. The smaller of the two was just below her size, rushed up and wrapped its limbs around Twilight’s neck, while the larger one stuck a hand out and exclaimed, “No, no, no!”

Twilight blinked. It was two humans in front of her, the small blond one had clung itself around her neck, forcing her face against Twilight’s neck. Looking down at the beast that grabbed her, she could see that the small human–filly, clothed in white and blue was smiling with eyes closed against her, the scent of peanut butter spread throughout the air. The larger human-mare reached out and approached the young human, her face stretched with embarrassment as her curled black hair jiggled behind her.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, Sally hasn’t quite learned yet that ponies from this side are not for riding,” the human-mare said, bending down to grasp the small creature.

“I don’t mind! I used to give my baby brother rides,” Twilight said as she lowered herself to the ground, folding her front legs inwards. The large human backed off as Sally quickly mounted Twilight’s back. The unicorn pushed herself up and felt the grasp of Sally’s arms around her neck.

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to get her used to this,” the human-mare said.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Twilight began walking around the large human, though Sally started pushing herself up and down while she was still saddled to Twilight. “My name is,” Twilight did a quick look at her hip, still seeing the flank paint up. “Dusk. What’s your name?”

“Jessica,” the human-mare said.

“How do you pronounce that? Get-su-ga?”

“Close, try saying just without the t,” Jessica nodded.

“Jus-eh-ka,” Twilight pronounced.

“That’s much better,” the woman nodded. Sally was still squirming around on Twilight’s back as Twilight circled the fountain, “Gentle please…”

Sally calmed down for a half a second before she suddenly started talking, “This is the one I want! She’s just like ‘Valiant Violet’! She doesn’t have the star cutie mark, but the purple unicorn is just like her!”

“What?” Twilight turned and smiled as she chuckled. Sally finally found the right spot for her to sit atop of Twilight’s saddlebag, only for her to now squeeze the side of Twilight’s ribs with her legs.

“I’m so sorry, it’s a child show on earth that Sally has gotten into a lot recently. You’re not the splitting image of her, too many tones in your mane, but she still doesn’t quite understand that ponies over here are not pets.”

“But she’s so adorable mom!” Sally said, tightening her hug on the unicorn she rode on. Twilight looked down and smiled harder, lightly exhaling and glancing at her and the human filly’s reflection in the water.

“Well, think of this as a gift from her to you and don’t expect any other ponies to give you a ride,” Jessica said.

“Since I have you here, do you mind fielding some questions?” Twilight said as she turned right.

“Sure? About what?” Jessica asked.

“Humans. I’m uh, working with one right now and I don’t quite understand them,” Twilight said, shifting her nose while her ears folded back at the glee of the juvenile atop her.

“Oh? And has she been treating you well?”

“Well…” Twilight trailed off. “We don’t really get along, so I’m hoping to figure out how I can work this out with him.”

The woman scoffed, “Him?”

“Yeah,” Twilight glanced to the left.

“That’s weird, they usually only send women over,” Jessica tilted her head to the side for only a second.

“Why?” Twilight asked, adjusting herself as Sally kept wiggling behind her.

“Oh, well, depending on the situation, of course, it’s just easier to have a woman work with ponies, you know, culture and the like,” Jessica said.

“I mean,” Twilight started. “That makes some sense, but that can’t be the case for every scenario.”

“Hmm, you’d be surprised,” Jessica said. “I’m here on vacation, perfect excuse to get out of the office and not get contacted since I can’t receive email readily on this side. But I came here a few months ago because the place I worked at was trying to negotiate sales prices for liquid nitrogen. We sent two guys over, but they weren’t taken seriously,” Jessica laughed. “So they sent me and the job got done, down to brass tacks and everything.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Twilight said. “It’s not that stallions can’t do most of the same things a mare can, but I mean, it’s better if they just let us handle it, you know?” Twilight nodded, “You need that quick anger to protect foals, but during a negotiation, well….”

The woman stood and blinked at Twilight.

“Um… are you okay?” Twilight asked.

“Sorry, just remembering something someone told me once,” Jessica said, shaking her head as her black hairs seemed to fade into brown for a second.

“So, you two are here on vacation?” Twilight asked.

“Yes! We had hoped to see Neighagra Falls, but you have to ride on an airship for that and well,” Jessica glanced at Twilight’s back. “It seems better if we had a look at other sights.”

“Well, you could always go to Maneh-” Twilight stopped mid-sentence. “Oh, I forgot…”

“Well, the city is in lockdown, and the riots have mostly stopped if what my inn keeper said is true,” Jessica said, then shot Twilight a stiff smile. “But yeah, we’re just going to avoid that city for the time being.”

Twilight wobbled as Sally started wiggling harder, “Hey…” Twilight stumbled over her words, “Calm down.”

“Sal-”

“Go V-Violet Valiant!” Sally screamed as she grabbed Twilight’s ears and pulled back hard. The mare’s wits vanished. Twilight instantly gave way to the human grip crushing her ears. Her head swung back. Twilight saw the berry blue sky and Luna’s moon when she started breathing harder and harder until she gasped loudly, then reared up as tall as she could. Her rear hooves angled against the cobblestone, trying to salvage Twilight’s balance, only for them to slide up, ever so slightly into the air as Equus denied Twilight’s attempt to catch herself. Gravity took over as Twilight collapsed onto her back, slamming Sally on the cobblestone with her.

“Ah-!” the child screamed before Twilight’s back thrust up, forcing the air out of her lungs.

“Sally!” Jessica screamed and ran over to Twilight, kicking her off.

Twilight let out a cry as she rolled over once, the inscription on the saddlebag automatically tightening to ensure it did not fall off, her attempts to breathe suddenly countered by the strap. Instinct took over as she then kicked against the road as her front legs righted her and she thrust herself up. Stumbling two steps, she turned to see the human mother cradling Sally. Then, her legs moved on their own, running.

And she ran. Ran into the crowd. Ran away from the humans. Ran back into the town where she could get lost in the sea of ponies that ebbed across its streets.

Author's Note

Due to family issues, there may be a delay in releasing Chapter 22